


joie.

by Nodame



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Heavy Angst, I'm Sorry, M/M, Possible Character Death, References to Depression, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 08:18:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17998262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nodame/pseuds/Nodame
Summary: Everything was the same, he mumbled to himself. Swallowing the burning tears rolling down his cheeks.





	joie.

**Author's Note:**

> tw heavily implied mainly in chap.2 :  
> -eating disorders not otherwise specified  
> -depression  
> -self-harm  
> -possible character death
> 
> please read at your own discretion.
> 
> This work is in NO WAY related to the original works. Characters belong to the respectful creators of the series IDOLiSH7. 
> 
> This is not my main account and you will not frequently find me in this fandom.

Whatever, he thought. As he felt the stinging sensation of a paper cut flame up against his palm.

 

His clenching grip tightened around the plastic bag, suddenly aware of the dim, flickering street light illuminating his lonely path in the middle of the night. Hues and forms sometimes too sharp, other times too blurry. The trip to the convenience store was a 5 minutes one, but it felt like scary, _scary_ hours until he could hear the soft clink of metal against keyhole. Maybe it was paranoia. Maybe it was hallucinations. 

 

  Everything was the same, he mumbled to himself. His routine, his tunes, his love for music, the fans, the tours, the time with Yuki- Yuki.  _But_ -

 

 A sob threatened to squeeze out Momo's tightly shut lips as his knees suddenly gave in, his back slamming against the wooden door. The boy placed a simmering hand against his mouth in an attempt to shush himself.

 

 -But lately, _nothing_ seemed to work normally in Momo's life. The boy was not sure why or when was his being propelled into this dreading reality. Uneasiness trudged its way to his consciousness and sheltered itself there, unbidden. Deciding to feed itself with happy thoughts and fond memories. It ate and _ate and the hunger was never appeased and, and-_

 

 And he didn't feel like stitching up the cut anymore. 

 

 He decided to distract himself with music. Though the sound was dull and almost jarring in his ears. Food was his  backup plan, though he was not motivated enough to leap out of his cold spot next to shoes and coats. Not even his favorite snack was watering his mouth. His stomach growled queazily.

 

  Everything was the same, he mumbled to himself. Swallowing the burning tears rolling down his cheeks.

 

 _______

 

 The steady strum of his guitar's strings hurt his ears, Momo scrunched up his nose in distaste. And for the first time, he stopped mid-training. Bruises forming in his fingers from strumming too hard.

 

 As expected, Yuki turned around with shock and confusion clearly written in _every_ muscle of his face. He stepped closer, hand softly resting on top of Momo's hair. Colors and shapes blurred as his eyes stung with unshed pinpricks of tears. "Five minute break?" He croaked out. Truth is, he _knew_ that his voice was raspy, too loud to be natural, but he tried his hardest to swallow the lump in his throat. The silence was awkward, Yuki hummed in a soft voice, wrapping his arms around Momo for a moment then letting go. Momo _immediately_ felt the loss of the flush warmth and he didn't exactly enjoy it.

 

 

 The five-minute break didn't help, unfortunately. And his hands gave in _every time_  he tried to move them. Yuki, as his kind and naturally friendly nature manifested, suggested they'd take the day off, promising him to take him out to eat at their favorite restaurant. Momose found the thought of food distasteful. To which he earned an _incredulous_ gasp from Yuki, who's shoulders tensed and expression hardened with worry. _Crap. It was his fault._

 He tried to reassure his friend. Promising that he was just tired and just needed a good night of sleep.

 

  _Except that he didn't sleep. And the next day was even worse._

 

 _______

 

  _Ping_.

 

 The notification bell echoed through his room. Momo stared at the flickering screen of his phone, dropped across the messy bed a few inches far from him. The room was dark, agonizingly dark. And Momo found it hard to move from his slouching position or his shielding blanket. As if he was hiding from the demon under the bed.

 

 Another _ping_. 

 

 Then surprisingly, a call.

 

 Yuki's picture flashed, clear eyes and bright smile taunting him. Telling him he didn't deserve him. Long, silky hair tangled in the wind's silent breeze. His ringtone kept going on and on and on for too long. The cheerful tunes annoyed the hell out of Momo, but he couldn't tear his eyes out of Yuki's eyes.

 Just when he was about to reach for his phone, to pick up and hear his friend's saccharine voice, Yuki's picture disappeared, now replaced with an agonizingly bright wallpaper. The cheerful music stopped and let a heavy silence settle uncomfortably in the room.

 He put his phone on silent. Then decided to completely turn off his phone.

 Momo's back hit the bed again, his arms wrapped a pillow. 

 "What were you thinking, dumbass." Tears rolled down his flushed cheeks, guilt and relief mixed in his voice. Yuki was probably trying to dial him again. Probably. But Momo was glad he couldn't. He didn't want to worry his friend. To let him hear his pathetic sobs. He deserved better, after all. Far better than Momo. He was a mess. A disappointment.

 But he loved music, he _adored_ it. Re:Vale was dear to his heart and Yuki was even more. He- He felt his heart shatter every time the man halted to look him, eyes sparkling with concern. He liked Yuki's eyes. He liked getting lost in the starry sparkles every time they shared small hugs and long conversations. He liked Yuki's eyes under the stage glitters or moonlight. Walking around the park in a breezy summer night, eating meatbuns and singing in perfect synch to no one else but each other. Yuki's eyes always shone as bright as the starry night sky they gazed upon every summer.

 But he didn't like _those winter_ eyes. The ones shining with fear. And he dreaded the fact that he was the one propelling it. 

_Everything was the same, he mumbled to himself, tasting the salty tears and the blood gushing out from his bitten lip._

 

 

 


End file.
